North State Voices: He left the hood wide open

"Fish" had a mouth that looked like a fish's mouth. "Steel Wool" had very kinky hair that looked like steel wool. "Bozo" had a big nose.

There was also a guy we called "Vato Loco" (Spanish for "Crazy Guy"). He acted mean and tough and was still dressing like a cholo (slang for gangster) in starched and ironed "County Pants" (what they give you at the Los Angeles Country Jail) well after being a cholo became pass?.

Since Peter's head was the shape of a football he became "Football Head." He called me "Se?or Felipe" because I wore Sir Guy shirts and spit-shined French toe shoes. He also called me "Blinky" because I blinked my eyes a lot trying to get used to contact lenses.

"BB" had a big butt and liked to go "heisting" where he'd break into cars and steal whatever he could get his hands on. He once showed me a diamond ring he stole out of a parked car. He said he was going to sell it.

One day BB asked me for a ride home after school. I told him the generator in my cherry 1950 Chevy kept burning out so we had to push it to get it started.

The next day BB said he knew where he could get me a generator for free. "Yeah? That sounds good," I said. So that night BB had me drive him up into the hills a couple of blocks from school and park the car. He got out and came running back a couple minutes later with a generator in his hands. He tossed it in my lap and said, "Let's go."

I asked him where he got the generator. He told me to turn the car around and we drove past a '53 Chevy with the hood left open. He looked at me and said, "Right there," and he laughed like crazy.

I felt sorry for the poor guy leaving for work the next morning with his lunch in his hand only to find the hood of his car left wide open and the fan belt hanging loose. I felt like taking the generator back to the guy but it only lasted a few days before that one burned out too — and the following week my car was stolen.

I lost touch with most of the guys after high school except for a few I'd see around the old neighborhood. A lot of us got drafted into the Army, including myself.

I moved to Chico in 1975 but I'd still go visit L.A. a couple of times a year and usually see old friends.

The last time I was in L.A., I was at Football Head's house when we heard Vato Loco died from a drug overdose. We went to his funeral. There were friends from high school I hadn't seen in years. We still called each other by our nicknames. We reminisced about the good old days and said, "We've got to do this again before somebody else's funeral."

I asked about the guys who weren't there. Some had moved away, some had died and some were locked up in prison.

"What happened to BB?" I asked Football Head.

"Oh, man, you remember how he used to like to go heisting?"

"How could I forget?" I asked.

"He's doing five to ten in San Quentin for hijacking."

"Hijacking?"

"Yeah. He started hijacking semi-trucks and selling everything on eBay."

"You're kidding."

"No lie. He was hijacking big rigs when they finally caught him and tied him to 17 other hijackings."

"He was that crazy?" I asked.

"I guess so. I asked him why he did it and he just looked at me and said, 'Why not?"'

Shivers ran down my back and again I felt like taking the generator back to the poor guy BB stole it from.

But the generators and the car that kept burning out generators were all long gone — just like BB was.

Phil Elkins is a Forest Ranch resident and columnist for North State Voices, which appears each Thursday. He can be reached at philelkins@ymail.com.